Skyler nodded, his eyes still wide and damp. “Don’t die, Mom. I need you.”
Paul stepped up and put his arm around both Skyler and Tracy. Across the bed, the other two children stood quiet and somber. “Mom’s right, she’ll be home in a few days, guys. Everything’s okay.”
“Promise?” Skyler looked doubtful.
Tracy smiled despite the tears in her eyes. “Promise.”
But the next morning the news was worse than anything they’d ever dreamed. The blockage had been caused by a tumor in her abdomen, a growth the size of a grapefruit that had cut off the intestine and caused the emergency.
“We’re worried.” Tracy’s doctor pursed his lips and clutched his clipboard to his chest. “The preliminary tests don’t look good.”
Tracy stared at the man from her bed and tightened her grip on Paul’s hand. What was he saying? Preliminary tests for what?
Paul was able to voice his questions first. “Are you thinking this . . . this tumor could be cancerous?”
Tracy’s doctor nodded. “It looks that way. We should know more by tomorrow.” He clenched his jaw. “I wanted you to be prepared. If we find cancer, Tracy will need extensive surgery and chemotherapy.”
The entire time the doctor was speaking, only one thought screamed at Tracy—her promise to Skyler. This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t be facing cancer and major surgery and death when she’d only the day before promised her youngest child that everything was okay, that she wouldn’t die.
After the doctor left, Tracy and Paul held hands and prayed, asking God for a way out of the situation, begging him for a miracle. When they finished praying, they agreed not to tell the children until the next day when they had a definitive diagnosis.
“Take a nap,” Paul told her as he left for home to be with the kids. “We have to believe God will work something out.”
Tracy nodded and willed her heartrate to slow down. Fear wasn’t from God, and Paul was right. She was exhausted. A nap would give her a way to pass the time until she knew for sure what her future might hold.
She fell asleep praying, and almost immediately she began to dream.
In the dream, she was crying and calling out to God, begging him to show her a way out of the tragedy that seemed about to befall her and her family. Then, in a clear and distinct voice, she heard God tell her what to do.
Have Anna come and pray.
Throughout the remainder of the dream, the thought stayed with her in a way Tracy couldn’t shake. Have Anna come and pray.
When Tracy woke up, the notion was as strong as it had been while she was sleeping. But now that she was clearheaded and awake, Tracy couldn’t make even a little sense out of the thought. Have Anna come and pray? An ache settled in Tracy’s heart; the idea was impossible. She and Anna hadn’t spoken in five years.
But even as she argued the thought in her mind, she began to go back. Back in time to that place decades ago when she and Anna Ritter first became friends.
They’d been in history class together early in their freshman year when a boy in the farthest row tried to get Tracy’s attention.
“Not now,” Tracy hissed at him.
But the noise was enough to gain the teacher’s attention. When he spun around and stared at Tracy, Anna shot her hand into the air. “I’m sorry, sir. I dropped my paper. Could you repeat that last sentence?”
The distraction worked, and Tracy avoided getting in trouble for talking. After class Tracy thanked Anna and the two giggled and chatted for several minutes. The next day they shared a smile and a certain knowing. A friendship had been forged.
From that day on Tracy and Anna became the very best of friends, attending high school together and sharing details about every date and dance and struggle until they graduated. The two were separated for a few years when Anna went away to college, but afterwards, they each married and settled a few miles away from each other outside Akron. They shared in each other’s weddings and the birth of each other’s babies. Before their children were in school, they took five years’ worth of walks at the local high school, picnics at the parks and trips to the library. Again time moved on, and Tracy and Anna shared the trials and triumphs of raising school-aged children.
It was a friendship both women thought would last a liftetime.
But then one late spring afternoon Anna came to Tracy for a small loan. Their family van had given out and they needed a new vehicle, but with Anna’s husband between jobs, borrowing money from a bank was not possible.
Tracy, meanwhile, was married to a man who brought in an annual income of nearly seven figures. They were generous with the money God had blessed them with, willing to help anyone in trouble. Because of her friend’s obvious need, Tracy checked with her husband and easily agreed to help.
“I hate borrowing from you,” Anna told Tracy. “But we’ll have income in a month. After that we can make payments.”
Tracy smiled and took her friend’s hand. “I’m not worried about it. Pay it back when you can.”
The loan was for five thousand dollars, and with it Anna and her husband, Ken, bought a used van that allowed Ken to take a job in downtown Akron, one that paid even better than the one he had lost.
Finally, five months after loaning the money to Anna and Ken, Tracy and Paul made plans to have their friends over for dinner. It was the moment they had chosen to discuss with Anna and Ken a payment plan for the funds they’d borrowed.
It was October, and a chill hung in the air as Anna and Ken arrived that evening, smiling and quick with their happy greetings. “I wouldn’t miss Tracy’s lasagna for anything.” Ken patted Paul on the back and grinned.
The small talk continued while Tracy marveled at the situation. They have no idea we’re going to ask about the money, she thought.
When dinner was over and the dishes cleared, Tracy made coffee and the four sat in the living room. This was the moment, and Tracy prayed silently that the issue could be brought up and dealt with quickly, without any tension or hard feelings.
“Listen,” Paul started. He sat back in his chair, his features calm and relaxed. “You remember that loan for five thousand dollars.” He hesitated and looked at Tracy. “Tracy and I were wondering if this would be a good time to set up a payment plan.”
Anna and Ken exchanged a strange look, and Anna cleared her throat. She kept her eyes away from Tracy, focusing instead on only Paul. “What loan?”
What happened next was something Tracy thought about often. The conversation turned stilted and tense, and Anna refused to look at Tracy even once. Ken denied knowing anything about the loan. Finally he snapped at Paul that yes, he would pay the money back, but their friendship would never be the same again.
After the couple was gone, Tracy stood frozen in place, staring at the front door. “What just happened?”
Paul came up beside her. “I have no idea.”
They rehashed the conversation, the details of the loan, the attitude Ken seemed to have, the strange, furtive glances from Anna, and they decided on one thing: There had to be a mistake somewhere. Before turning in that night, again the two prayed that God would help Anna and Ken see the issue more clearly and that the matter could be resolved without damaging their friendship.
But when two weeks passed without word from either of their friends, Paul called Ken and talked over the situation on the phone. Ken reluctantly agreed to pay the money back, with two-hundred-dollar payments starting the following Friday.
Tracy wasn’t surprised when that Friday came and went without either payment or word from Anna or Ken. Another two weeks went by and finally Tracy and Paul agreed to forget about the loan and call it a gift. Their own family didn’t need the money, and if that would prevent a rift between the two couples, so be it.
Tracy called Anna to tell her the news.
“Look.” Tears gathered in Tracy’s eyes and her voice trembled. “We’ve been friends forever, Anna. We can’t let money ruin things.” She p
aused. “Paul and I have decided to make the loan a gift.”
“Meaning what?” Anna’s voice was cold, distant.
“Meaning you owe us nothing.”
For a while neither of them said anything. Then Anna voiced a curt thank you and the conversation ended.
Weeks became months after that. Occasionally Tracy would call Anna, asking her out to lunch or over for coffee. But always Anna had an excuse. One afternoon nearly a year after Tracy and Paul had given them the money, Anna returned Tracy’s call and stated the situation in terms that cut Tracy to the heart.
“It’s over, Tracy. Ken feels awkward when the two of us talk.” She was quiet and it was impossible to tell if she was crying or not. “It’s time to go our own ways.”
Tracy was in shock for hours after the phone call, stunned and angry and filled with sorrow all at the same time. Memories filled her mind of times when she and Anna had been closer than sisters. Now all of it was gone for reasons that didn’t even make sense.
That had been five years ago.
The images faded and Tracy looked around her hospital room. She hadn’t heard from Anna once in the past several years, and though the ache of losing her friend had never quite gone away, she could do nothing about the loss.
So why now, in her most dire hour, did she feel so prompted to call Anna?
She closed her eyes and prayed. Lord, surely it’s not you telling me to call her, right? Anna wants nothing to do with me.
Yes, daughter. Make the call. Anna needs to pray for you.
The thought shouted into the hallways of her heart as clearly as if someone had spoken the words out loud in her room. A chill passed down Tracy’s arms and legs. Anna needs to pray for me? The thought seemed outrageous, but Tracy had made a habit of heeding such thoughts. Especially if they were persistent even after she prayed.
Without giving the matter any more thought, she picked up the phone and dialed a number she still carried in her memory. Seconds later Anna’s voice sounded on the other end.
“Hello?”
The sound of her friend’s voice brought back another thousand memories.
“Anna? This is . . .” Tracy tried to finish her sentence, but she couldn’t. Tears choked off her words and she pressed the receiver to her shoulder while she fought for control. When she was able to talk, she lifted the phone and said, “This is Tracy. I’m in the hospital and I’m sick, and . . . and I think God wants me to ask you to come pray for me.”
At first Anna said nothing. Then in a voice strangled with its own emotions, Anna spoke. “I’ll be right there.”
An hour later, Anna walked through the door of the hospital room and years of silence and differences faded away in an instant. Anna came to Tracy, sat on the edge of her bed, and the two hugged as they hadn’t in a long time.
“I’m sorry, Tracy, I didn’t know what else to do.” Anna was crying, letting her tears soak into Tracy’s hospital gown. “Ken and I . . .” Her voice trailed off. “Ken left me a year ago.”
The shock was one more in a series that afternoon. Anna and Ken had been churchgoers, people whose faith should have kept them together. But the announcement gave Tracy insight into the death of their friendship. They talked more about what had happened during that awful time five years ago, and after an hour, the air between them was clear once more.
“You wanted me to pray?” Anna had moved onto the chair beside Tracy’s bed. “What’s wrong, Tracy? How sick are you?”
Tracy’s heart sank as she considered the news from earlier that day. “They think I have cancer.” She placed her hand over her abdomen. “I have a tumor here the size of a grapefruit. I’ll know more tomorrow.” A sad smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I had a dream and God told me to call you. He wanted you to pray.”
Anna nodded and placed her hand over the area where Tracy’s tumor was. “God, my dearest friend needs a miracle. Please remove the tumor from her body and make her well again.” Anna’s voice cracked. “You see, Lord, I’ve been sick for five years, sick in my heart over the loss of Tracy. And now . . . now I’m healed. So please . . . do the same thing for Tracy.”
After the prayer, the two talked for another hour, and then Anna left with promises to call the next day. “I’m not letting you go again,” Anna said as she walked toward the door of Tracy’s hospital room. “I believe tomorrow the doctors will find that a miracle has happened.”
The next day, Paul arrived early. He was stunned by the news of Anna’s visit and prayer time, the way the two had reconciled. But when the doctor came in, Tracy could tell immediately the news wasn’t good.
“It looks like an aggressive type of cancer.” He bit the inside of his cheek. “We need to take more tests today to determine the borders of the tumor and how fast it’s growing.”
The blow was more than Tracy had imagined. All night she had clung to Anna’s parting words—that God might work a miracle and heal her. Now, though, she’d been handed what was likely a death sentence. And that meant she wouldn’t be able to keep her promise to Skyler.
Tests were done that morning, and two hours later the doctor was back again. He entered the room with a strange look on his face and set a file of notes on Tracy’s bedside.
“Well?” Paul squeezed Tracy’s hand, his face ashen as he waited for the news.
“Just a minute.” The doctor pulled the sheet back from Tracy’s mid-section and through her gown carefully felt her abdomen. The exam seemed to go on forever, until he finally straightened and stared first at Tracy, then at Paul. “It’s gone.”
His words didn’t sink in immediately.
“What do you mean?” Paul’s tone held a stunned quiet.
The doctor looked at Tracy. “I mean the tests showed absolutely no signs of the tumor.” He motioned to Tracy’s abdomen. “I’m feeling the same place where the tumor existed just yesterday, but today I feel nothing at all.” His eyebrows came together and lowered, confusion written in the lines on his face. “It’s completely gone.”
A giddy sensation coursed through Tracy. She sat up in bed and looked at Paul. “Anna prayed this would happen. God told me to call her here so she could pray, and she prayed for this exactly.”
The doctor took a step back and shrugged. “I’d like to run more tests tomorrow before you go home.” He shook his head. “Tumors that size don’t just disappear.”
“They do when God wants them to.” Tracy’s heart swelled within her at the miracle God had given them.
The next day the news didn’t change. The tumor was gone, her tests were normal, and that afternoon Tracy went home to a welcome that included Anna and her children. When the two friends had a moment alone, Tracy thanked her for having the faith to pray for a miracle.
“We were both healed,” Anna said. “You of your tumor and me of my guilt and shame.” Her eyes shone. “God didn’t give us one miracle, he gave us two. First, that you’re here . . .”
Tracy hugged her friend once more and then searched her face. “And the second, that you’re here.”
Buckle Up
Andy Conner grabbed an apple and headed for the front door just as his mother came down the stairs. Andy and his best friend, Jared, were interns for the Birmingham, Alabama, firehouse, and that night they faced four hours of drills. Jared was waiting for him outside, since the two had just twenty minutes to get to the station.
“Fire drills again?” His mother leaned against the railing and smiled at him.
“Yep.” Andy took a few steps out of his way and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “See you around midnight.”
“Be safe.” Her eyes met his and held for a moment. It was something she said often, especially since Andy’s father had died of a stroke a year earlier. Now it was just Andy and his mother, and she wasn’t excited about his decision to be a firefighter.
“I’m always safe.” He grinned at her and took a few steps toward the door. “That’s my job, Mom, remember?”
She let h
er gaze fall to the carpet and muttered, “Because of Jared.”
Andy stared at her. “What?” The sound of a car honking came from outside and Andy knew they’d be late if he didn’t hurry. Still, he wanted an explanation for his mother’s words. His tone grew tight and harsh. “I’m not in this because of Jared. I’m in it for me.”
His mother angled her head and looked at him again. “Please, Andy, be real. Since third grade you’ve done everything that boy’s ever done. Baseball . . . target shooting . . . fishing. If Jared did it, you did, too.”
Andy had turned nineteen that fall, and his mother’s words grated on him. “I’m my own person, Mom. If I happen to like the same kind of work as Jared, it doesn’t mean I can’t think for myself.”
The car outside honked again and Andy gave up the fight. He spun around, shook his head, and headed for the door.
“Andy, don’t leave like that. I was only—”
Andy walked out and shut the door. Being patient with his mother was getting more difficult all the time. Yes, she was lonely, and since he was all she had left, she worried about him. Andy understood that. But couldn’t she see how much he enjoyed working for the fire department? Why couldn’t she be happy for him instead of making him feel as if his entire existence was directed by Jared?
Andy narrowed his eyes as he climbed into the passenger side of Jared’s car and slammed the door behind him. Jared backed the car out of the driveway and sped off toward the station. It was fourteen miles away on a winding two-lane road and they’d have to push it if they were going to be on time.
A minute into the ride, Jared turned to Andy and raised an eyebrow. “Bad day?”
Andy leaned his head back and raked his fingers through his hair. “My mom won’t give up.”
“Your dad?” Jared kept his eyes on the road as he turned left and entered the two-lane leg of the drive.
“Yeah. Same story. She wants me to stay home in a glass bubble.” Andy tossed his hands in the air. “She’s trying everything to change my mind about firefighting.”
A Treasury of Miracles for Friends Page 2
